Scenes from My Harry Potter 6th Year Fanfic
by The Last Soul
Summary: A collection of scenes  mostly HHR  I wrote back in 2005 for a fic my sister and I had planned to co-write of Harry's 6th year. Will probably never continue or finish it, but you never know. Perhaps someday. If I get re-inspired. Please R&R! Thanks!


A/N: This is a collection of scenes I wrote back in 2005 when my twin sister Jackie and I were co-writing a fanfic for Harry Potter's 6th year. Harry Potter has become a can of worms for me. I'm still a fan I guess, but I'm also deeply disappointed in what it became (actually that happens with just about everything for me). I love the first 5 books, but I never read book 6 and 7. And I don't plan to. My sister read book 6 and from what she told me I know I would not enjoy it or find it worth reading. So we started working on a fanfic that we felt was more true to the characters and made more sense. Of course, that was to be an epic project and unfortunately I can't seem to stay focused that long before I move on to something else. We still have several scenes for the story written out, but it's doubtful that either one of us will get around to working on it some more, much less ever finish it. But perhaps someday. If I ever get re-inspired. Please read and review! Thanks!

A/N: This scene takes place in the Gryffindor prefect compartment on the Hogwarts Express train. Yes I have made Harry a prefect. Sorry Ron, but YOU SUCK! Eh hem...I didn't mean that...er…it was just something I felt I needed to do for the story. Don't ask me where all the other prefects are in this scene. lol. It's a long train ride, so as of right now I'm just going with the others have left the compartment to mingle with the other students and stretch their legs. Harry fell asleep while the others were talking and discussing their prefect duties. Cause it's BOOORRRING. lol.

Harry awoke to what seemed at least two hours later.  
A brown, bushy head on his shoulder told him that Hermione must have fallen asleep too.  
With his free arm, Harry looked at his watch. It was nearly five o'clock.  
He then looked up and gazed out the window. Nothing could be seen but blue skies and green mountains. Harry wondered how long it would be until they got to Hogwarts.  
"Well, well, what have we here?"  
Harry's head snapped toward the door of the compartment. He had recognized that drawling voice immediately.  
"Interrupting a tender moment, are we?" said Malfoy snidely, looking from Harry to Hermione.  
"Get lost Malfoy," Harry spat.  
Malfoy pretended to look hurt. "Is that how you treat a fellow prefect?" he asked in an insulted tone.  
"If that fellow prefect is you than yeah," Harry retorted.  
Malfoy's eyes narrowed at Harry, then shifted to Hermione.  
"Oh look, the muggle's awake."  
Hermione had lifted her head off Harry's shoulder and was now glaring at Malfoy.  
"What do you want?" she asked him coldly.  
"Pipe down Granger," Malfoy replied, "You can go back to dreaming about Potter in a minute."  
Hermione turned a soft shade of pink.  
"Get out Malfoy," Harry ordered. "Before I make you get out."  
Malfoy and his much larger cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, started snickering.  
"What are you planning on doing, Pottie? Going to make us leave by force? I'd like to see you try."  
Harry's hand gripped the seat furiously.  
"That old quack Dumbledore isn't here to stop you. No teachers around to make sure the great Harry Potter doesn't get hurt," Malfoy went on.  
Harry's hands were now balling into fists.  
"Don't listen to him, Harry," Hermione said quickly, "He's only trying to get you into trouble. He wants you to lose your prefect privileges."  
Malfoy smirked. "Think you know everything, don't you Granger? Well did you know that Potter here is only a prefect out of pity? Yes, poor Potter. Potter has no parents, no real family that cares about him, and the friends he has he might as well not have any. At least Dumbledore favors him."  
Before Harry knew what he was doing, he had shot out of his seat and grabbed Malfoy by the collar with both hands.  
"Harry, no!" cried Hermione from behind.  
Harry ignored her. At that moment he didn't care about losing his prefect privileges. He didn't care that Crabbe and Goyle were now cracking their knuckles with glee. All he cared about was the small flicker of fear he saw in Malfoy's eyes, and how badly he wanted to hurt him.  
"Don't do anything Harry, it's just what he wants," said Hermione, who was now at Harry's side.  
"He deserves it," Harry replied through clenched teeth.  
He then felt a hand on his shoulder.  
"I know, but Harry please," Hermione begged. "Snuffles wouldn't have wanted you to."  
The desperation in her voice calmed Harry. His jaw loosened, and his muscles relaxed.  
Reluctantly, he released his grip on Malfoy.  
"There," said Hermione, looking thoroughly relieved. "No harm done."  
"You better listen to your girlfriend, Potter," sneered Malfoy, as he, Crabbe, and Goyle backed out of the compartment. "Even if she is a mudblood."  
At his last word, Harry had lunged at Malfoy again. The only thing keeping him from clobbering Malfoy was Hermione, who had grabbed the back of Harry's robes to hold him back just in time.  
Seizing their chance to get away, Malfoy and the other two Slytherins scrambled out of the compartment and took off down the hallway, laughing their heads off.  
Harry angrily tore away from Hermione's grasp and went to sit back down.  
"Don't you ever get tired of him calling you that?" Harry asked as Hermione slid the compartment door shut.  
"I'm used to it by now," she answered, and came over to sit down next to him.  
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be," Harry said bitterly, "Next time I see him I'm going to punch his face in."  
Hermione gave him an foreboding look. "No you're not," she said strictly.  
"Why not?" said Harry loudly, throwing his hands up. "How come you can hit him and I can't?"  
Hermione just shook her head. "You're a prefect now Harry, you can't just go beating up on anybody you'd like. Besides, you don't want to go get into trouble with the Malfoys now do you?"  
Harry didn't answer. Instead, he sat staring at the opposite wall with his arms crossed.

A/N: This next scene takes place at Hagrid's hut near the beginning of the school year. It's probably still September here.

"So yer a prefect now, Harry?" said Hagrid, eyeing the shiny silver badge pinned to Harry's robes.  
"Oh...yeah," Harry replied, as he shamefully tried to fix his robes so that the badge wouldn't show.  
Hagrid obviously didn't catch on to this.  
"'Bout time I say, been wonderin' when yeh were gonna become one," he continued, not noticing Ron's slightly insulted expression from the corner.  
Harry couldn't find a reply to this, so he just let Hagrid carry on.  
"Always knew yeh had in it yeh," he said proudly, then nodded in Hermione's direction. "That goes for the both of yeh. Reminds me o' lot of o' Lilly and James."  
Harry turned his head. "Hermione and me?" he said in bewilderment.  
He and Hermione stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment, then, both realizing what they were doing, quickly looked away.  
"So what have you been up to, Hagrid?" said Ron, who seemed keen on changing the subject.  
Harry got the feeling that Ron didn't like talking about prefects, as he was one last year and now that he wasn't, didn't like to feel left out.  
Not that Harry could blame him. After all, he too had felt left out when Ron and Hermione were chosen for prefects last year and he wasn't.

A/N: This next one is a very dramatic and emotional scene I wrote between Harry and Hermione. This is the big one! ;)

Harry tore his way up to Gryffindor Tower.  
He couldn't remember ever being so upset in his entire life. His blood was boiling, every muscle in his body was twitching, and he could feel the stinging in his eyes.  
But there was no way he was going to let Malfoy see him like this. It was bad enough he had just stormed away, leaving Malfoy and the other Slytherins guffawing at the sight of him so hurt and enraged. Malfoy was not going to get the pleasure of seeing him cry, Harry would make sure of that.  
Cursing to himself, Harry turned a corner and charged up the steps to the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
"What ever is the matter, dear?" she asked, looking down at him with great concerned eyes.  
"Nothing, pixie dust," he managed to croak and hurried through the portrait hole so fast that he didn't even notice the person who had just climbed up the steps after him.  
The common room was completely empty. Not a student or soul in sight. Everyone had gone down to Hogsmeade to spend the afternoon, which couldn't have been planned on a better day, as Harry was not in the mood to face anyone at the moment.  
Harry started toward the staircase to his dormitory when he heard the portrait swing open behind him. He turned abruptly to see who it was.  
Hermione stood there, pale and teary-eyed, and looking nearly as bad as Harry felt.  
She was gazing at him with a mixture of both pity and fright. She almost seemed too anxious to speak.  
"H-Harry?" she said softly. Her tone was so shaken, so fearful, that for a moment all Harry could do was stare at her.  
"Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione said miserably, and made toward him.  
Harry took an uncertain step backwards. Hermione froze.  
"Harry, please don't do this," she pleaded.  
"Do what?" Harry spat, his voice returning, along with his bitterness.  
Hermione shook her head, her eyes now full of tears.  
"Don't g-go shutting yourself up in that d-dormitory and not talking to any of us."  
Harry's jaw clenched. "What's it to you?" he said rudely.  
Harry didn't know what made him angrier: the fact that she told him not to or that she knew what he was planning on doing beforehand.  
He decided that he didn't care either way, and turned to the boys' staircase.  
"No, Harry, wait," said Hermione, grabbing his arm to stop him.  
Harry spun around to face her and found himself so close to her he could trace the tear stains on her face.  
"You don't understand," breathed Harry. "You don't know what it's like losing everyone that matters to you."  
At this, Hermione looked down at the floor and said a in a small voice, "You're right, I don't. But I do know what it's like feeling like I'm going to lose someone."  
Harry felt a surge of guilt but chose to ignore it.  
"It's not the same thing," he said gruffly, freeing his arm from her grasp.  
Hermione looked back up at him, desperation in her eyes. "Then will you tell me what it's like?"  
Harry stared at her in disbelief. If it weren't for the fact that he was starting to feel too weary to argue he would have liked to yell at her some more, to somehow get these feelings off his chest. But his bitterness was leaving him, grief was settling in, and Harry broke down completely.  
Perhaps it was the shock of Harry suddenly losing it that Hermione stood nonplussed for a brief moment. Then quickly regaining herself, she caught Harry as he fell onto her.  
She led him over to the nearest armchair where she sat him down and then knelt down on the floor in front of him.  
Harry's mind was racing. Every bad memory he could remember was swimming in and out of his head. There were certain in particular that kept flashing back. Living with the Dursleys before Hogwarts. The dream he always had about his parents being killed. He could see the flash of green light and could hear the cackle of Voldemort more clearly than ever now. He could see the still, glassy eyes of Cedric Diggory, lying dead in the graveyard. And Sirius, Sirius falling through a black veil and disappearing forever.  
Dementors, Death Eaters, and giant snakes were obscuring Harry's thoughts. He tried to tell Hermione this but all that came out was a weak little cough.  
"Sirius," he choked.  
Hermione looked up at him in surprise.  
"You're ready to talk about Sirius then?" she said patiently.  
Harry nodded.  
Then when he didn't say anything, Hermione spoke up.  
"You miss him, don't you?"  
Harry nodded again. Hermione sighed.  
"Of course you do, Harry. He was your godfather. He was probably more like a father to you than anything else."  
Harry shifted in his chair uncomfortably.  
"You've been thinking about him all summer haven't you?" Hermione asked, watching Harry with a solemn expression.  
"And other things," Harry replied quickly, not meeting her gaze.  
"Things like you feeling guilty about his death?" Hermione said automatically.  
Harry glanced at her. How was it she could see right through him the way she did?  
"He shouldn't have died," he began. "It was my fault he-"  
"Oh, don't go blaming yourself for it, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "There was nothing you could do to help him. It wasn't your fault."  
Harry shook his head at her incredulously.  
"But Hermione," he said weakly. "I'm the one who made us go to the Department of Mysteries. If it weren't for me, Sirius wouldn't have had to come rescue us, and he would still be alive."  
"If it weren't for you," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "the Death Eaters would have gotten the prophecy."  
Harry paused. He knew she was right about this, but it still did not change the fact that he had helped lure Sirius right into Voldemort's trap.  
"Sirius was the only wizard family I had left," said Harry, whose face was now in his hands, fighting the stinging in his eyes once again.  
"That's not true," said Hermione, barely above a whisper.  
Harry raised his head back up to look at her, bemused.  
"Ron and I are your family too," she said. "Or, we just as well are."  
Harry continued to stare at her.  
"Listen, Harry," Hermione went on, peeling away at some of the loose fluff hanging out of the arm of Harry's chair. "There's something I've been wondering about." She stopped and looked back up at him, directly into his face.  
"What exactly did the prophecy say about you and Voldemort?"  
Harry looked back at her for a second before returning his face to his hands, where he sat shaking his head.  
It was true that he had not mentioned what the prophecy had said to Hermione or Ron. In fact, he hadn't mentioned it to anyone. He wasn't sure how they would take it. He himself still hadn't gotten used to the idea. But then, how do you get used to the idea that you will either murder or be murdered?  
The time had come at last, however. He could not hide it from his friends any longer.  
"It said," Harry stammered, not wanting to meet Hermione's eyes, "It said that neither of us can live while the other survives, that either of us must die at the hands of the other. One of us is going to destroy the other one."  
Harry looked back up in time to see the look of horror form on Hermione's face. She looked like she was going to be sick.  
"And-and who made this prediction?" she said, in an obvious state of forced calm.  
Harry hesitated.  
"Professor Trelawney," he replied quietly.  
Hermione let out what sounded like a breath of relief and small laugh.  
"So it might not even be true then," she said, trying to sound hopeful.  
Harry forced himself to look her in the eye. "It is true, Hermione," he said gravely.  
"But Trelawney-"  
"Is a big old fraud, I know," Harry cut in. "But she's right about this, just like she was right about Wormtail escaping and Voldemort returning to power. And-" Harry swallowed, "Dumbledore believes her. He's the one who heard her make the prophecy sixteen years ago."  
Hermione was shaking her head, and there was a real note of panic in her voice now.  
"It can't be right," she muttered frantically. "Dumbledore just made a mistake. He must've-"  
"He did not make a mistake!" said Harry loudly. "He heard her perfectly! I heard her too! In the Pensieve last June! She said the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord would be born as the seventh month dies-" Harry pointed a shaking finger at himself, "See? Me! I was born July 31st! And the Dark Lord would mark him as an equal-" he then put a finger to his scar, "Me again! My scar! My scar is the mark he gave me!"  
Harry's whole body was shaking now, and wasn't sure whether it was from rage or from fright.  
Hermione, meanwhile, had tears pouring down her face. She was still kneeling, but she had sunken lower to the floor, and looked like nothing more than a heap of robes.  
"I can't believe it," she whispered, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.  
"See, this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you," said Harry through gritted teeth.  
"How else did you expect me to react, Harry?" said Hermione angrily. "Do you think this is easy to hear?"  
"HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL?" Harry bellowed, rising from his chair.  
"Do you think I like being told I'm either going to have to kill someone or be killed myself? Do you think I like having everything bad happen to me? Do you think I like not having parents or-"  
"Of course I don't think that, Harry!" shouted Hermione, jumping to her feet as well. "Why do you think I try to get you to talk to me? Why do you think I try so hard to help you? Do you think I enjoy watching you suffer?"  
Harry opened his mouth furiously to reply but Hermione cut him off again.  
"You think everyone else has it so easy, Harry. You think life is one big party for the rest of us. Did it ever occur to you that the rest of us are suffering too? Did it ever occur to you how much _I'm_ suffering? How hard it is to be your friend when all this stuff happens to you? Tell me, Harry, do you know what it's like to care about someone so much and have to sit there and watch as they fall off their broomstick, or face dragons, or fight off dementors? Do you know what it's like worrying about someone all the time?"  
She didn't give him time to answer.  
"Well I can tell you, Harry," she said, her voice shaking, tears streaming down her front, "because I feel it every day of my life. I feel it every time I watch you play Quidditch. I feel it every time you say your scar's hurting you. I feel it every time you're sitting up in the hospital wing. I feel it every time I look at you."  
And now you're standing here telling me you're going to be killed, that it's been prophesized, that there's nothing anyone can do about it. How am I suppose to feel, Harry? Can you tell me that? What am I suppose to do?"  
Harry stood there, speechless. He was still registering all the things she had just said to him. His brain was buzzing. He could feel his breath catch in his throat. He was staring at Hermione, looking into her anxious, awaiting face. He didn't know what to say to her, he didn't know what to do.  
So he did the only thing that came to mind.  
He leaned down and kissed her.

A/N: Sorry if you wanted to read the aftermath of that. Don't have it written. Yet. This next scene takes place in the Gryffindor locker room as the team are getting ready for Quidditch practice.

"Harry!" said Seamus excitedly as soon as he entered the Gryffindor locker room. "Where have you been? Today's Quidditch practice!"  
"I know it is," replied Harry, slightly annoyed.  
He turned to Dean, who was leaning against a locker, fully dressed in his scarlet robes and wearing a vacant expression.  
"You're late," he said bluntly, tossing the Quaffle he was holding at Harry's chest.  
Harry caught it.  
"I was on prefect duty," Harry retorted, throwing the Quaffle back at him.  
The other Gryffindors shook their heads and sighed impatiently. Harry opened his locker, grabbed his Quidditch gear, and then headed to the dressing stalls to change into his robes. When he had finished, he opened the curtains to find the rest of the team putting on their pads.  
Harry looked around at them all, and suddenly it hit him.  
Someone was missing.  
"Where's Ron?" he asked them.  
The others shrugged.  
A no-show I guess," answered Ralph.  
Harry stared at him.  
Ron, not show up for Quidditch practice? What in the world could he be doing?  
Shaking his head, Harry sat down on one of the benches and started to put on his Quidditch boots.  
"Who's gonna play as Keeper?" Patrick asked, tossing Ralph his club.  
Harry tightened the knot on his boot.  
"I will," he said hastily. "If Ron's not going to show up for practice then I'll just have to alternate between Keeper and Seeker."  
Harry shook his head again, wondering what could be more important to Ron than Quidditch.  
"Well Ron's not as admirable of a teammate as you are, Harry," said Ginny tartly from the bench opposite his.  
Harry looked up at her, brows furrowed.  
"What's that suppose to mean?"  
Ginny shook her head. "Oh nothing," she said carelessly. "I'm just surprised you have the energy to practice at all after staying up with Hermione in the common room all night."  
Harry dropped his boot.  
"How do you know about that?" he asked in astonishment.  
"Because I have eyes," Ginny replied moodily as she strapped on her kneepads.  
"I saw you. Just like anyone could've seen you had they been taking a stroll downstairs at three in the morning."  
Everyone was looking at Harry now. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck.  
"Are you and Hermione a couple now?" asked Dean curiously.  
Harry purposely glanced down at the floor. "We were just talking," he said quietly as he slipped on the other boot.  
Ginny laughed. "Maybe but you two looked rather cozy all snuggled up on the couch together."  
The others sniggered and whistled. Harry just sat there, shaking his head and grinning.  
"'Bout time!" Seamus exclaimed.  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." muttered Harry as he finished lacing up his boot.

A/N: This next scene takes place in the Great Hall during the Halloween Dance that my sister and I had planned for our fic. Everything seems fine and dandy. Students dancing, flirting, having a good time. MEH! WELL WE CAN'T HAVE THAT NOW CAN WE! :P

And that's when he saw it. Hovering about twelve feet above the floor, in the very center of the Great Hall, was the Dark Mark.  
Harry stood frozen. Hermione looked at him peculiarly and gave him a nudge, but all he could do was watch the ominous skull, glowing in its eerie green light as a large snake slithered out of its mouth. As he stared at it for those few tense seconds, he could feel the fear rise up in his chest, then turn into something else.  
The need to take action.  
Harry let go of Hermione's waist and reached into his robes for his wand, not daring to take his eyes off the Mark.  
"What?" said Hermione anxiously, following his gaze.  
She quickly turned around, and at the same time she did, several students screamed.  
Catching sight of the horrific shape floating in midair, Hermione gasped and put a hand to her mouth.  
"Oh my-"  
Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.  
"Find Ron and get out of here, okay?" he told her, then rushed past her in the direction of the Dark Mark.  
"Harry, wait!" Hermione shouted, but he was already pushing his way through the mobs of terrified students, wand ready, and determined to strike at the first cloaked figure that appeared in sight.  
The Great Hall was a sea of colors as hundreds of students, clad in their best dress robes, pushed, shoved, and trampled one another in their attempt to escape into the corridor outside. Teachers and prefects were doing their best to round them up, but were failing miserably at keeping them from panicking.  
"EVERYONE STAY CALM!" McGonagall was shouting. "STAY CALM AND FOLLOW YOUR PREFECTS BACK TO YOUR DORMITORIES! DO NOT PUSH!"  
Harry was under the Dark Mark now, and was searching the room continuously. His eyes darted back and forth across the floor, trying to identify students from anything that resembled a Death Eater.  
"Potter!" McGonagall barked at Harry. "You are a prefect! Do as you are told and accompany your house back to Gryffindor Tower!"  
"I wanna help fight, Professor!" said Harry.

A/N: It should be clear by now that Harry and Hermione _are_ together. Yep, they're a couple. Hehehe. Gotta love that. ;) Hey you two, no PDA in the corridors! :P

"Potter! Granger!" shouted McGonagall, making Hermione drop her books in surprise.  
Nose flaring, she stormed over to them shaking her finger. "This is neither the time or place for that! Five points from Gryffindor!"  
Hermione blushed as she bent down to pick up her books. Harry, meanwhile, had his mouth hanging open in befuddlement.  
"Don't pretend to look so innocent, Potter," McGonagall said briskly, eyeing Harry's expression.  
"I didn't know that was against the rules!" Harry said defensively.  
McGonagall scowled at him. "Then perhaps you need to go over the rules another time. I daresay, I'm beginning to regret Dumbledore's decision to make you a prefect. Now if you would, set a good example and get to your next lesson."

A/N: This last scene takes place in Hogsmeade village. It's December, and the gang are hanging out in Hogsmeade on a cold, snowy afternoon during their winter break. Ooh how I love the cold. ;) And yes, Ron and Luna are together too. :D

"Come on, Ronald!" Luna suddenly exclaimed, grabbing Ron by the arm and taking off in the direction of Zonko's Joke Shop.  
"Meet you in The Three Broomsticks around two!" Ron called out, then disappeared into a shower of snow, leaving Harry and Hermione alone.  
"So, where to?" asked Harry, glancing at Hermione through his snow-speckled lenses.  
Hermione turned to look at him, then laughed.  
"Give me those," she said, removing Harry's glasses and taking out her wand.  
"_Impervius_!"  
"Thanks," Harry said as she handed them back to him.  
Hermione returned her wand to the inside of her robes.  
"Let's stop by Dervish and Banges first," she suggested.  
Harry agreed, and the two of them began trudging through the snow.  
It was quite cold; the chilly winter air cut right through their cloaks. Despite all the layers he was wearing, Harry couldn't help shivering under his robes. It wasn't until Hermione slipped her hand in his that he finally started to feel warmed up.

A/N: That's all I've got to share for now! Hope you enjoyed! And remember, I may add on to this someday!


End file.
